


Snowflowers Bloom Late in Faerghus

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, a/b/o dynamics, felix digs so deep into denial that he's punching crocodiles, hey how about rodrigue lives and gets to be the awkward dad, late blooming leads to misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For FE3H kink meme.Felix always thought he was a beta, was *glad* he is a beta, until a the sight, the *smell*, of the beast covered in blood send his body reeling.Late bloomer Felix presents as an omega and goes into heat at the worst time. And is likely very in denial.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 42
Kudos: 237
Collections: Anonymous, FE3H Kink Meme





	1. Curses

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry OP, I suspect you wanted straight pron but Felix in denial is good soup it is

House Fraldarius always took pride in its ability to produce the most prestigious of Alphas. And those same Alphas would, inevitably, go on to become the closest confidante of the King of Faerghus. Such was the way of their bloodline.

And then came Felix, and Duscur, and it became readily apparent that Felix was not going to present as an Alpha. Or an Omega. He wasn’t presenting _at all_.

If Felix believed in fate at all, it would have been amusing that the Fraldarius that didn’t follow in his family’s foolish footsteps went so far as to even deny biology itself. If the world wanted to take _his_ Blaiddyd from him, he could sure as hell deny it the satisfaction of _tradition_.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.” Felix moved between each form, fighting against an invisible enemy. There was still something calming about training, even if by now he’d been using his blade more against real people than dummies. 

Still, Ashe looked at him with a curious frown. Which was… irritating. He liked Ashe. Ashe was a good person, if not a little too into fairy tales, but an invaluable ally on the field.

“You just seem…. a little distracted.” Ashe hesitated. “And a little pale, to be honest. I’d hate it if you were sent out on a mission while you were ill.”

“If you wanted to be helpful, you could just fight with me.” Fighting always made him feel better. He grabbed a sword and held it out, waiting.

“I think I’ll pass.” Ashe awkwardly looked away. “It’s kind of nice _not_ to have to worry about fighting for a few days.”

Felix clicked his tongue. Whatever. He could always ask…

No.

Dimitri was _dead_ , and the thing that skulked around the chapel was just a corpse that mocked Felix with its very existence. He’d briefly… _briefly_ held a tiny fragment of hope, when he’d seen that golden hair and black armor but… that didn’t matter anymore. His best friend and fellow Beta was _gone,_ burned into ash just like everything else at Duscur.

“Do what you want.” He was here to see the war through. To put an end to the Emperor’s invasion. Nothing more.

“You okay there, Felix?” Sylvain frowned. “Did you eat the spicy chicken again?”

“I’m fine.” Goddess, Sylvain drove him mad sometimes. Going off to gallivant with ladies, then getting injured, and then proceeding to use his injury to gallivant with more ladies… “It’s just a little hot today.”

“Felix,” Sylvain’s voice dropped slightly, and Felix felt weirdly uncomfortable by it. A little too intense, a little off, and it made Felix _want_ to fight him more than usual. “It’s _raining_ outside.”

“Then it’s _humid_.” He grabbed onto a plate of plain chicken and vegetables. “I’m leaving.”

The Boar – whatever _it_ was – reeked even more today. Like earth and ice, and the quiet death brought on by a Faerghus winter. Felix felt like his body was on edge, like _something_ was going to happen if he stayed around its still figure for far too long. Dedue was there – of _course_ Dedue was there, but it wasn’t for Felix to chide him for wasting his time.

“I’ve brought you food.” He wasn’t expecting an answer. He didn’t talk to dead things, after all. “Do something with it.”

He was rewarded with a grunt.

“And drink some water. It’s too damn stuffy in here.” 

That night, he dreamed of warmth and strong hands, of a low rumbled growl above him and he didn’t feel a single bit of fear. In fact, it was good. So very, very _good_ …

He awoke feeling empty and sullen.

Felix ignored whatever stupid fantasies his mind had come up with. He didn’t have time to dwell on pleasant dreams.

They were marching on Gronder.

The battlefield was a mess. Even more than usual, the blur of red armor and golden banners, the clatter of weapons, even the damn _smells_ , everything seemed to be hitting him all at once. His feet stumbled and he forced himself to stop and just _think_.

In the corner of his eyes he saw black and blue, storming through a surge of enemies. The Boar was there, as wild and vicious as ever, his face covered with blood. He snarled , rising to his full height and…

Felix felt suddenly very, very dizzy. The Boar… he needed to get over there before he did something _stupid_ …

Dimitri threw some charging Imperial and thrust Areadbhar into another. More blood, but somehow it was fascinating instead of horrifying. _Dominating_.

Powerful.

Felix sliced through some attacker and then another, body burning alive. Close. Yes, he needed to be….

That blue eye swiveled his way and Felix’s legs gave out. Dimitri caught him in a protective hold and yes – _yes_ , he could feel Dimitri’s teeth close to his pulse, where it should be, they needed to bond _right here_ …

He was pushed to the earth and Felix moaned, squirming as he was covered with black armor. No, that armor needed to come off, now…

“Felix?! Highness?!”

Dimitri’s hands roamed, tracing, _tearing_ as Felix tilted his neck backwards, ready to be claimed. Bred. Like he was meant to be.

“Highness **no!** ”

Felix’s mind was overwhelmed with fever, and one that would not abate.

He woke up painfully, miserably, alone.

That wasn’t right. He should be somewhere comfortable that didn’t smell like antiseptic and aloe. And he should be _full_ and…

Wait.

“What the _fuck_.”

“Oh. Good. You’re awake. And… oh my…” Ashe blushed, weakly covering his nose. “I’m sorry.”

He was in a private room of the infirmary. With Ashe, who was sitting in a chair with a large book and looking ridiculously… embarrassed?

Felix tried to sit up, but his body was apparently having none of it. He felt _hot_ , and sluggish, and in desperate need of…

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Felix repeated, dazed. Because there was definitely something _wet_ between his legs, and the cramping feeling was entirely new and unpleasant. “Did I get hit with a spell?! What… did the Boar…?”

Dimitri.

Dimitri was supposed to _be here_ with him. In fact, if he could just get up and find him….

“Felix!” Ashe tried to grab at his arm but Felix had already crawled off the bed, struggling to reach the door, “That’s not really a good idea… how about we lie back down again?”

That was stupid. He didn’t need to _lie down_. He needed the Boar.

 _Why_ did he need the Boar again? Oh, right. To mate.

Wait.

“I think I’ve been cursed.” Yes. That made the most sense.

“Well, no.” Ashe awkwardly placed a damp towel against Felix’s sweaty forehead. “You just presented.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” If he’d been anything other than a Beta, he would have known long ago. “I just need to find the stupid Boar…”

“That’s… not really the best idea right now.” Ashe laughed, a little weakly. “Trust me. It’s just your hormones talking. You’ll feel better in a few days.”

Ugh. This was ridiculous. Whatever prank Ashe was planning could _wait_. Once he got out, and settled things with Dimitri, and get fucked stupid and…

 _Fuck_.

It was not the most miserable week of his life. Felix had gone through a _lot_ of miserable weeks, the most recent of which was finding that corpse dragging itself all around in the shape of his former friend.

This though… it was _lonely_. He kept waking up, trying to stuff his fingers into himself to relieve some of the gnawing emptiness. Manuela had come in to check on him and talk about special teas, but it had been stupid. Felix didn’t _need_ any teas. It was just some spell, or something, because he was _not_ an Omega and this was _not_ some kind of freakishly delayed second puberty and he was not – under any circumstances – lusting after that damned _Boar_.

Finally, mercifully, the ache started to lessen. He didn’t feel so frustratingly _clingy_. His neck didn’t itch (mostly). He was venturing out from that damned infirmary, and if anyone dared try to stop him, Felix would turn them into ribbons.

His father was waiting at the other side of the door.

In a wheelchair.

Felix stared.

“I think we should talk.” Rodrigue started, hesitant. He had a dagger in his hand, complete with a ribbon wrapped around the blue handle. “If… that’s all right?”

“What are you on about, Old Man?” Was that some kind of gift? “And why are you in that?”

His father looked down.

Felix gripped tighter to the door handle. He didn’t… he didn’t _hate_ his father. But he had no desires to stand here, especially not after feeling like his body was playing some kind of twisted joke on him. “I’m waiting.”

“We had an assassin in our ranks. She attempted to attack His Highness in a moment of weakness. After…”

“What did you _do_?!”

“I did my duty.” Rodrigue looked up at him without a hint of regret. “For Dimitri.”

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t think. Not like this.

Felix stormed out. It didn’t matter where he was going, just as long as no one found him.

There had been a grove of apple trees not far from the monastery. Felix used to roam there, mostly to have some quiet time and avoid any unpleasant visits by his father or someone else. There had even been a small outcropping of rocks that had made for a perfect lookout post.

Like most things around the monastery, it had been razed to the ground. Someone had gone through the bother of planting new sprouts, but it would still be some time before they turned into proper trees.

The rocks were still there though, and Felix deemed it as comfortable a place as any.

He thought of his father, and the still-present warmth of his body. It was a mistake. Obviously. He didn’t feel any different, and everyone knew Omegas were fragile things. _Ashe_ was an Omega and.. all right, so was Annette and yes she _could_ wield a giant hammer, but…

But he definitely was a Beta. He was himself, and nothing had changed.

Especially not with that Boar.

“Felix?”

Speaking of…

Felix’s whole body warmed, even as his mind raged. No. Absolutely _not_ …

And there the Boar was, walking hesitantly along the edge of the grove.

He looked….

Different.

His hair was tied back and he was dressed in plain clothes. Without the armor on he looked thin, but not as sallow as he had when they’d first found him. If he could just eat a little more, Felix could imagine him filled out, his broad chest having some thickness to it, his arms stupidly defined… enough to hold Felix down as he…

No. Felix was thinking about _swords_. Swords. And battle.

Not about how it would feel, holding onto Dimitri’s….

Dammit.

“Felix?” the Boar asked again and Felix felt a strange twisting in his gut as he looked at that one clear blue eye. “Ashe said you had left the infirmary.”

“I was cursed. In the last battle.” Felix braced himself. He was waiting – for the Boar to start muttering to some invisible ghost only he could see, or to start waxing poetic about severed heads. There was absolutely no reason his handlers should have let him out unhindered.

“Cur… ah, is that what you wished to call it?” Dimitri bowed his head. “I… must apologize profusely. For many things. Including that….”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re apologizing for a mage cursing me….”

“Ah, no, that is… Felix, do you not…?” The Boar blinked awkwardly. “My memory is imperfect but I do believe I nearly claimed you for my own.”

 _And you didn’t_!

Ugh. Shut up. Stupid curse. Stupid, stupid curse. It would wear off, sooner or later.

“I have treated you all quite terribly, and I have fled from my own responsibilities for far too long.” Dimitri took a deep breath and stood straighter, more like he _used_ to, and it made Felix ache all over. “I must attend to those who need me, not those who have passed on. So… I only ask that you continue to stay by my side.”

He sounded genuine. _Real_. A man – and mate – that anyone would be proud to have.

Felix sat up, just as Dimitri moved closer. The annoying heat was back, and it took everything he could to… to not do _something_. Push him down and tear those stupid clothes off, or maybe Dimitri could lay him bare against the grass….

“Felix.” His voice was a pleasant timbre, and Felix felt weirdly hazy as his long-lost prince reached out, gently brushing his fingers along Felix’s jaw.

His neck itched. _Ached_. Felix leaned in close, nuzzling that touch, breathing. This close, the other smelled like pine and earth, something sturdy and painfully familiar and soothing. He wanted…

“Ah,” Dimitri drew back and Felix felt himself groan. “I… am sorry. It’s still difficult for me to resist the urge to…” he blushed. “That is to say…”

“Urge.” Felix repeated flatly.

“I may have presented as an Alpha?” Dimitri stepped back, the same way he used to whenever he had been caught breaking a brand new weapon, and Felix let out an internal scream. “I should go. But please – I truly do wish for live up to your expectations. And for us to… talk.”

Talk.

Dimitri had decided to suddenly get all… Alpha, and he wanted to _talk_.

Felix’s mutinous brain was already filling in the thought – being pushed down, undone, remade over and over again. Have Dimitri’s teeth in his neck, marking him _permanently_ for everyone else to see, and…

Goddess, what did he have to _do_ to un-curse himself anyway?

“We will march to Fhirdiad soon. Please… let me know if there is anything you need of me.” Dimitri half-bowed, and Felix stayed very still because the alternative was doing something so obscenely foolish he would never recover.

He didn’t start breathing until the blonde was out of sight.

He was fine.

And definitely still a Beta.


	2. Homecomings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slightly dubious consent insomuch as Felix is a little drunk and by that I mean Felix is so stubborn he will blame it on alcohol even if he'd had like, two sips.
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU TO MY BETA and by that I mean someone that has likely seen enough commas for one day and not a Beta like Felix thinks he is. For he is indeed a Beta.

“How do I get rid of a curse?”

“I'm sorry?” Annette looked up from the heavy tome she'd been buried in for Goddess knew how long. She tilted her head, awkwardly looking Felix over with her nose scrunched up. “Manuela couldn't find any curse on you. Did a mage hit you with something when we weren't looking?”

Was everyone that blind? “At Gronder Field.”

“That...” Her eyes widened and for once, she looked genuinely affronted. “Felix! There isn't anything wrong with being an Omega. Ugh, you're so..”

“I _know_ that.” Felix hated having that conversation. Just because a few nobles got their trousers in a twist about not having Alpha children didn't mean he cared. “Have I ever complained about you and Ashe?” He crossed his arms. “But I'm not an Omega. I'm _cursed_.”

Annette narrowed her eyes again, but at least she didn't look like she was going to hit him with a spell. Probably. She'd learned to be very good with her fists, lately. “Um, Felix, I'm pretty sure you are. You've got the whole...” She twisted her lip up. “I mean, you... smell. Not in a bad way, but it's a very familiar smell. Kind of surprised I never noticed before, honestly.”

Ugh. Why was this so complicated? He'd expected Sylvain and Ingrid to be unhelpful, but Annette? Annette _always_ knew what to say to him in her own bubbly way. “Didn't I just tell you I was cursed?”

“You spent a whole week locked up tight in the infirmary and we were pretty sure you and Dimitri were going to... you know.” She flushed bright red. “Did you?”

“ _No_.” As if he would ever sleep with that Boar...

Beneath a warm, thick blanket, those long fingers leaving bruises in the perfect places...

Dammit. “I just want to start thinking about normal things again.”

“Oh... yeah. That sort of is a lot to hit you at once, isn't it?” Annette offered her most sympathetic smile. “Probably worse because you're older... not that you're old, because wow, we haven't even hit 25 yet, oh, wow, stop talking Annette.” She hastily pressed her hands against the tome. “It gets easier though. After a heat or two. And if you can find an Alpha you really trust...” She shivered. “It's really intense. But... really nice too.”

And now Dimitri could be all his. If he just...

Felix groaned, clutching at his forehead. Why the hell couldn't he focus?

“Whatever. I'll find someone else to help me.”

“Felix, you're so weird. But... it's okay, if you want to talk. I can tell you which toys feel...”

Felix stormed off.

He was spared from further torture by the northward march. Their troops didn't have much time to pack and say their goodbyes, and even less time to get their affairs in order. Only the Church of Seiros forces would remain in the monastery to ward off any potential attacks.

Which led to Felix's other source of irritation.

“You can't walk.” Felix crossed his arms and glowered.

“But I can still be helpful.” Rodrigue used all his strength to lift himself onto the back of a wagon next to carefully-packed blankets and a few healers that had agreed to make the journey. “Besides, I need to see His Highness's return with my own eyes.”

“By riding in a caravan. Where you can't walk.” Why was everyone but Felix so...

“I can use a bow. And magic, if you recall.” Rodrigue held up his hand and a few sparks of light danced around. “I'll be fine.”

“If you were fine, you'd be walking.” He was trying to be objective about it. He didn't hate his father. He just... disliked him, and they were better off being on opposite ends of the country. But to see him like this, barely able to move his feet, it just wasn't _fair_.  


“It's a small price to pay, Felix” Rodrigue soothed.

That did it. “Don't you hear yourself? Do you really want to throw your life away?! What is _with_ you, Old Man?!” Felix curled his hands into fists and thought – hard – about not hitting something.

“No.” The source of Felix's anger looked at him, really looked at him, and Felix hated it. “I want to protect you.”

The air was far too thick.

“That's...”

“I have made a lot of mistakes, Felix. And... I must admit that I am not very good at saying what you need to hear. But Felix, we're at war. And what are we fighting for, if not for what we believe in?”

His heart was racing, he knew. He felt all of eight years old, looking up at his father and the tight bandage around his arm. When he'd realized his father was just a man, like any other.

“I don't believe in a pointless death.” He'd clung to that. Needed to believe it, when their world had taken his brother and his mat... his friend from him in one fell swoop.

“But if you could save just one person, wouldn't you?”

“That's.... ugh. Never mind.” His head was hurting. And there was something else pulling at his senses, demanding he stand to attention...

Felix dared not turn around.

“Ah, Rodrigue. Are you abso... oh, Felix?” Dimitri's voice was doing all sorts of things inside of him, things that he was absolutely not dealing with on top of his father's constant foolishness.

“I have to go check on my horse.” Felix (very gracefully) fled.

“So how does it feel? Now that you've presented, is it...”

“I didn't present.” Felix didn't _hate_ Sylvain. What Sylvain did was bothersome, but Sylvain himself was... he was fine. He was much better than some people who had chosen to march to Fhirdiad, just as Felix wanted, acting like....

Like he was still there.

Sylvain looked up at him, briefly, before he went back to gently brushing his black mare down. “Felix, you went into full catnip in the middle of battle. That's kind of what presenting is. If His Highness hadn't...”

“Why is everyone treating him like he's back?” Felix's horse grunted, perturbed as he tugged a little too hard on a knot in its tail. “He's...”

“I don't know if he is or not. But I want to give him a chance. For Faerghus.” Sylvai scooted over, patiently calming Felix's horse too. He really was good with horses, and it annoyed Felix just slightly. “If we can retake Fhirdiad, we can finally turn a corner in this whole war."  


To have their country back.

To have Dimitri safe and sound, above him, whole, wound up just by Felix... to bond...

“I'm still a Beta!” he called as Sylvain led his mare away.

It was a long march, and a grueling battle. Felix really only remembered the harsh sounds, the chaos of giant mechanical creatures and soldiers who switched sides rather than stay with Cornelia as the battle began to turn, the smell of blood as they stormed the capital city, pushed on by the cheers of citizens eager for the return of their king. He remembered Dimitri, the way his lance had struck the venomous traitor, and the way Felix had cheered with everyone, dizzy off relief and success and the king, standing victorious at the foot of his castle.

The rest, Felix blamed on alcohol.

The party was in full swing, even late into the night. The city was still in chaos, and there were all sorts of things they should be doing, but they were home. Faerghus would soon be made whole, with any remaining lords that still wanted to betray them brought to heel by Margrave Gautier's forces.

Felix found Dimitri in one of the old wings, where they'd used to play as children. He was buzzed – it had been quite some time since he'd had Daphnel vodka and even longer since he'd allowed himself to let his guard down enough to enjoy it.

The smell hit him. Sweaty, but familiar. Comforting. It curled around Felix like the most luxurious of fur cloaks, and he felt... warm.

“Is the king really running away from his own party?” Felix asked, leaning against the doorframe. He remembered that bed – they'd spent many a morning curled together beneath the blankets as they watched the snow fall through the northern window. Their fathers had finally put their feet down and separated them, but it had only taken three days and Felix crying nonstop for Lambert and Rodrigue to rescind the separation.

Now – it looked far smaller. The blankets were thin, and nothing else bright or colorful decorated the room.

As though that fucking viper had wanted to wipe out any evidence that the Blaiddyds had ever existed.

“Apologies. It has been an overwhelming day.” Dimitri stared at him, tiredness evident. “I did not wish to ruin the celebration.”

Felix snorted, swaying in. He really wasn't that impressive right now. Not like on the battlefield; wild and alive and stunningly strong. “They're celebrating because of you.”

“Yet my work is far from finished.”

Felix grunted. He reached out, lazily fixing a clasp on Dimitri's shirt. His skin was still warm – more than warm enough to frighten away any chill. “Then get to it.”

“Felix...”

He liked looking at that eye. That familiar downturn of lips, like Dimitri did when they were small. “What?”

“You smell....”

Felix scoffed, ready to draw away, but Dimitri grabbed onto his wrist, hesitating.

“Not... not in a bad way of course. Quite the opposite. I've noticed you've been avoiding me, and I wished to know how you were... feeling with the...”

“I'm a Beta” Felix said indignantly. “No one seems to notice I'm cursed.”

“You know, at one point, I used to imagine.” Dimitri's fingers loosened, but Felix didn't withdraw his wrist. “That you and I could one day...”

The air felt very warm. Felix wondered what mage had been working, or perhaps it was just the exertion from the day. “You're all...”

“I'm sorry?”

“Romantic. I bet you wanted to court me.”

Dimitri blushed. It was cute. “Well, I was seven.”

Goddess. “You thought about courting me at _seven_.”

“I thought about a lot of things.” Dimitri leaned closer and this time, Felix didn't pull away. The warmth was nice. The nose against his still-tingling neck was nice. Especially the spot that Dimitri had found near his jugular that kept getting itchy and aching at night.

“Did you think of me at the Academy?” Felix let himself be pushed to the edge of the bed, unresisting.

“Sometimes.”

Felix rewarded the admission by looping one arm around Dimitri's neck, fitting their bodies together tighter. “And?”

“I was not in a good place. It was a difficult time.” Dimitri's free hand drifted down, lazily stroking Felix's knee. “Sometimes I feel as though I am waking up from a long dream.”

“That's...” Felix stopped, cursing quietly as wetness spread all through his groin. “Ugh, dammit.” There was a clatter of glass that made Dimitri pull back.

“Are you hurt?”

“Dropped my drink.” Felix looked morosely down at the damp spot on his trousers.

“Ah. Should I...” Dimitri rose, or tried to, but Felix grabbed tighter to his thigh. “Felix?”

He felt hot.

Very hot.

“Help me get it off.” He fumbled with the laces, not helped with how close Dimitri was. “It's spreading.” Especially between his thighs.

“Felix, perhaps...” Dimitri's gaze darkened, and Felix watched as his tongue darted out, lightly wetting his lips. It was a... nice enough tongue, he supposed. Not that Felix had a running catalog of tongues.

But...

The boar opened his mouth again and Felix struck, pulling him close and pressing their mouths together.

It wasn't a pretty kiss. Or a romantic one. It was kind of gross, really. But he moaned all the same, some stupid part of his brain indulging in whatever fantasy it wanted to have.

“Felix, you're drunk.” Dimitri warned, leaning over him.

“You're always in your head.” Felix kissed him, moved to nosing at his jaw. “It's irritating.”

“St...” Dimitri hissed, hand going to Felix's shoulder as Felix darted his tongue out. “Felix.”

He wanted Dimitri.

Needed him, in some absurd, primal way. Had always wanted him, even at his worst. How could he untangle himself from the person above him? “C'mon. Dima. Dima.” That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Dimitri's hand moved lower, down to his hips and Felix moved them upwards, trying to get some friction going. “Make it good.”

“Felix..” It was only a minor protest, especially as Felix felt those huge hands pull his trousers down. The cool air did nothing to settle the burning liquid in his veins, or the ever-increasing pressure in his gut.

His smallclothes went next, still slow and hesitant and Felix squirmed. The longer Dimitri took, the more his mind began to swirl – didn't Dimitri get it? Didn't he want him?

He got his answer as Dimitri’s face disappeared between his thighs, and Felix blinked sluggishly.

And then he cursed, nearly jumping off the bed as a warm, wet tongue began to lap at his entrance. It made his head spin, made him ache, and that seemed to do something too, based on the little purr Dimitri made.

“You're gushing.” Dimitri murmured, voice husky. “Oh Felix...”

Felix groaned, dizzy, dreamy as he imagined Dimitri's tongue pushing in, then his fingers, that huge, huge cock splitting him open... filling him.

“Deeper,” he ordered, and Dimitri obliged. Felix grabbed onto blonde strands, demanding more. “Hurry up.” A finger went inside and Felix howled ungracefully, desperate, because it wasn't enough, it wouldn't be enough....

He needed to be full. Mated.

Dimitri added another finger, and then a third, drawing back to look in fascination. Felix clenched down, shivering, each and every nerve alight with sensation.

And then Dimitri's fingers curled upwards, touching... something.

Felix saw stars.

Dazed, euphoric, he looked up, fascinated as the blonde leaned over him, pumping his cock. It was... it was big, and smelled amazing. Felix desperately wanted it inside of him, wanted it more than anything.

White warmth splattered all along his chest and stomach as Dimitri came with a low groan.

Dimitri flopped down beside Felix, staring at him with barely-restrained hunger. Like he was the only thing that existed in the world. Felix eyed the extra swell of his cock and felt that yearning emptiness because that could be inside him. Should be inside him.

“I should clean us up.”

“Leave it.” Felix reached down, touching the seed on his skin. It felt right on him. “I like it.”

They fell asleep together.

Felix woke up, his body burning.

Beside him, he saw sleep-mussed blonde hair. Dimitri's face, unguarded and peaceful. Strong shoulders, warm skin, dipping deep beneath the outline of the blanket that gave them the barest modicum of dignity.

He struggled out of the sheets, each and every movement painful. A part of his mind wailed, desperate to be back next to his Alpha,

He made it to his own old room where he collapsed, burning up and terribly lonely as he stuffed his fingers inside and thought of anything other than how much better it would be if it was Dimitri's cock.


	3. Considerations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big THANK YOU to my Beta, who is a Beta but not a Beta like Felix. Please send them sunscreen for they may have needed to take a vacation from gratuitous comma abuse.

Sometimes, Felix had found, the Goddess could be harshly merciful.

Somehow, he’d managed to avoid Dimitri and any opportunity to _talk_ about that (pleasurable, warm) drunken mistake (maybe mistake was too harsh). He’d spent every night since tangled in his sheets, desperately clutching at his own dick as he tried to think of anything _other_ than the planes of that firm, muscled chest pressed against his back and how it would feel to have those warm arms wrapped around his full stomach.

But at least during the day, he was spared from distraction. Mostly.

Capturing a capital had only been the start of their work. Dimitri had spent most of his time restructuring their troops and sending them out to various ends of the country. Ingrid and Sylvain hadn’t been around, too busy working with Margrave Gautier in bringing any rebellious nobles back into the fold. Beyond that, there were merchants to contact, roads to clear out, supplies to disperse to citizens who did not have the coin to pay for it, all the _mundane_ things that went into ruling a country.

That they’d be doing every day if – _when_ \- they won the war.

Felix had busied himself with taking stock of the armory (in poor shape) and trying to account for what little remained of the castle’s treasury. Whatever that _fucking viper_ had done, she’d wasted no time in emptying the castle’s coffers.

Felix dared not think of what she’d used their treasury for. 

But it was a safe place to stay, and one where he didn’t… smell Dimitri everywhere. He could smell others of course, and the few times he’d come in contact with the blonde Alpha, his gut had coiled in warmth and longing.

He could bear it. Felix had managed to bear a lot in nine years.

Felix was standing outside in the gardens when his father found him. Well, what remained of the gardens. They were overrun with weeds and brown, choking vines that slithered around old statues and gave off a sickly-sweet scent of rotting earth.

It was a miserable sight. He remembered how many times he, Dimitri, and Sylvain had run along the short stone hedges and the hiding spot he and Dimitri would occasionally disappear into when his old man would prepare to take them back to Fraldarius lands. He could remember the white snowflowers and the huge trees that would blossom with dark green leaves. Maybe now, Dimitri would stand under them with him, their lips pressed together and no space between them…

 _Dammit all_.

“Shouldn’t you be headed home, Old Man?” Felix didn’t want to look at him. It was much easier to tear at the brown vines that were currently wrapped around a statue of Kyphon.

“When His Highness marches towards the Empire, the Margrave and I can manage affairs here. We can’t retake the capital and then turn around and abandon our home all over again..” Rodrigue didn’t let Felix start talking. “How are you feeling? Are you…?”

Felix bristled. “Am I what?”

“It has been roughly a month since your heat.. If I…”

“I didn’t have a heat.” Tear out the leaves. Focus on something else, besides his father in that chair, unable to stand for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Felix, I seem to remember one of your cousins presenting as an Omega as well. You remember Jager?”

“I didn’t have a heat. I’m not an Omega.”

Rodrigue sighed, and it made Felix’s insides clench. “Why not?”

What was with people and foolish assumptions? “Do I seem small to you old man? Helpless?”

“Felix, that has nothing whatsoever to do with…”

This was pointless. “I’m me. And I’m _going_ to keep getting stronger with the blade, not some…”

“Why?”

“Because…”

Because he had things he needed to protect. Things he couldn’t protect if he was having heats and knocked up and begging for Dimitri as the prince – the _king_ \- to bend him over his grandmother’s antique Adrestian sofa…

“Well, Felix, if you _do_ wish to talk… I’m always around. And I suggest you take your tea, especially if you and Dimitri… consummate. I imagine the education at Garreg Mach was a little better during your time than mine, when we were given banan…”

 _Crack_.

Rodrigue stopped.

Felix awkwardly held up a large, convoluted chunk of the root system. He gave a small tug, and more of the vines tore up from the earth.

“Well. Just be careful. I’m not _quite_ ready to be a grandfather.”

There was a sword waiting at his door.

A very _nice_ sword, in a very nice sheath. Moons and flowers decorated all along the leather, matching the silver-blue of the delicately-wrought handle. He slid the blade out and felt warm all over as the silver gleamed against the sun coming through the window.

It was a good weight – an _expert_ weight, and the balance as he swung the blade was blissfully perfect.

It pissed him off a little.

Felix ground his teeth and put the weapon back in its sheath. He attached it carefully to his belt and crossed his arms.

This was completely unacceptable.

  
  


“Are you,” Felix's voice dripped with disdain, “trying to _court_ me?”

Dimitri looked up from where he'd been studying a map of Faerghus. Notes were scribbled all over the place, and Felix was entirely certain he'd gone well past the point of eyestrain. He was doing that little squint again.

“Ah... am I... courting?” Dimitri looked genuinely perplexed. “I'm sorry?”

Felix pulled the sword out and set it on the table with a decisive thud.

“Oh. It came.” Dimitri reached for it and Felix yanked it back, protectively setting it back into his belt. “Felix...”

“You'll _break_ it.” With that brutish strength and his complete inability to be gentle. It was a given that sooner or later he’d bend such a work of art and then have the audacity act _sheepish_ . Just like when they were little, and Dimitri had _accidentally_ destroyed the chaise lounge when they’d both been napping on it.

Not that Felix had any interest in lying with him. Dimitri would absolutely break the bed and Felix would be crushed between him and the mattress.

Focus. Ignore that damn _smell_.

“Courting. What makes you think I'd _want_ a gift from you?”

Dimitri flushed. “Please do not get the wrong impression, Felix. This is not... of course I would not have had the time to find something after our, which is to say...” the blonde paused, composing himself. He squared his shoulders and sat straighter, just like a leader _should_.

The room was decidedly warmer.

“I merely did a favor for a red-headed merchant involving a boulder that was blocking her shipment. She gave me, in her words, a 'very impressive discount on a very special sword,' and she would not take no for an answer. Although I am not certain it was that impressive of a discount.”

“You took care of a boulder.”

“It was not that large of a boulder.”

Goddess. Felix could imagine it – the flex of his arms, the sweat of his skin.... the _Alpha_ of it...

“I would never intend to make you uncomfortable with unwanted advances. I recognize that our night together...” Dimitri fidgeted, and it looked completely ridiculous. Boyish. Possibly cute, at least for a giant beast.

“It wasn't a whole night.” He hadn't even _claimed_ him, not really, and that aching emptiness needled Felix's brain. “And... I don't, you didn't do anything wrong.”

“So you do not wish for me to court you, but,” Dimitri started slowly, “You do not regret our tryst?”

“You don't court Betas.” Obviously. And they both had more important things to be concerned over. Like a war.

“Ah. I see,” Dimitri said, not seeing at all. “Felix... please do believe that I wish for our relationship to...mend, in whatever way it must. You are a trusted friend,” Felix's stomach did something very unpleasant, “and when I awoke and you were gone, I was concerned.”

In retrospect, that had probably not been the best way to resolve the situation.

“You have been avoiding me for nine days now. I feared I had lost your trust again.” Dimitri bowed his head. “Not that a mere sword could express my feelings, but I had hoped...”

Felix shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “You didn't. You're doing good. Like... like I wanted.” He moved closer, hesitating. “Like a proper king.”

Felix resisted the urge to pet Dimitri’s hair. It needed a good brushing, and perhaps a bath to get that smell to stop sticking to him, but...

The huge hand against his thigh practically burned. “Felix.”

How could someone say his name with such reverence? It was ridiculous.

“It's a good blade.” He awkwardly rested his hand against the crown of Dimitri's head. “I'm keeping it.”

“Tomorrow I am gathering a small force to attempt to retake Arianrhod. I wished to ask you to join us if you believe your body will permit you. I recognize that it's been close to a month...”

A month _cursed_ , not a month of being an invalid. And as if Felix would ever turn down a battle. “I can handle it.”

  
  


As they struggled to clear out the streets of any and all remaining Imperials, Felix started to suspect his body was in open rebellion. His form was as sharp as ever, and his new sword was as sharp and dangerous as a demonic beast, yet...

Yet he felt as if his joints were stretched, and a dull pain in his stomach kept distracting him. He grit his teeth and pressed onward, cutting through a group of unsuspecting soldiers that were staged at a gate. He turned startled as an arrow flew past his head. Dammit. He'd forgotten about the east entrance...

Two generals barreled forward in clanking armor. Behind them, he could see a mage readying a spell....

And then, in a flash of blue and black, the generals were clubbed down with a sharp crack of a lance. Felix stepped back, just as Dimitri stepped forward, hulking above the small robed figure that remained upright.

The mage fell back. He spun, racing for the nearest exit, red robes billowing with how fast he ran.

Felix's head spun and his pulse turned rabbit-quick. Dimitri turned his attention back to him, all power and strength and dominance, red blood smeared near his cheek.

Fuck.

Fuck _ing_.

Dimitri was on him, no, that wasn't right, because Felix was _definitely_ clutching at that furred robe for all he was worth. The prince made a low groan, echoed by the little whine that escaped Felix's throat as dampness spread between his thighs.

“Boar... Beast...” Felix panted, wrapping his legs around Dimitri's hips as the blonde lifted him up. “Dimitri...”

He was pushed back against a wall, trapped, and all he could think was _finally, yes, now_ .. if they could just get that armor off, could just have a chance to feel heat pressing against him, _inside_ him...

Felix groaned, tilting his head back as the beast ripped his trousers down. There was only the briefest of moments as Dimiri fumbled with his gauntlets before a finger blessedly, inelegantly, shoved inside.

It felt _amazing_. Felix sobbed with relief, trying to adjust his hips to encourage more. More. He needed... he craved...

He squirmed as another finger entered him, and he dug his nails in against the fabric, cursing softly as Dimitri spread him open.

“Felix... ” Goddess, how he said his name. “Felix, I...” Yes, yes, anything...

There was a clank of armor and Dimitri was on him again, mouthing at his jaw and throat, grinding their bodies together.

Felix came with a triumphant cry, gripping Dimitri's shoulders like his life depended on it.

His mind cleared, only briefly, as he listened to the way that Dimitri pumped himself to completion. The smell of his seed was calming, and Felix let his body go limp in Dimitri's arms.

The world came back to itself, enough for him to realize they were still in the middle of a battle. Above them, around them, he could see blue banners bearing the lion's likeness being placed all around the perimeter.

“Felix...,” Dimitri rumbled, hungry for more.

“Shut up,” Felix could feel himself already hard again, already needy. “There's a barrack two buildings over.”


	4. Consummations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone say THANK YOU to the AnonBeta who has to again deal with my mess.

Felix, somehow, had survived all the embarrassing and completely pointless sex education classes during his year at Garreg Mach. Manuela droned on and on about dynamics and positions and expectations with all the passion of a puddle of dried up mud. Felix had pointedly ignored it all. He was a swordsman, devoted wholly to the blade, and had sworn off any intimate relationship he could ever have. After all, he was a Beta, and one that still had no interest in claiming his family title for his own. 

Now surrounded by Dimitri’s scent, still high off adrenaline and burning alive from the inside out, Felix began to think he should have paid more attention.

Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered except Dimitri’s warm breath against his skin; the way his cock nudged against Felix’s entrance, so close to what they both wanted. Felix cursed loudly and pushed his hips back as Dimitri’s hands went _everywhere_.

“Felix,” Dimitri pleaded, _begged_ , clutching at Felix’s hips. “I want - may I?”

“Do it.” Goddess. Why was he always trying to be _gentle_ at the worst times? Felix dug his nails into the plain, slightly-worn blankets that likely belonged to some Imperial that wouldn’t be coming back for them. “Dimitri. Boar. _Now_.”

Dimitri hesitated and Felix groaned in frustration. And then, yes, _Goddess_ , he could feel that huge hardness pushing slowly, steadily into him. It hurt, but it was just this side of _good_ , and his nerves sang even as his muscles clenched around the unfamiliar intrusion.

He cried out, back arching as Dimitri made a few small, experimental thrusts. Felix’s head spun and he shuddered, desperate for more. _Deeper_. “Like that.” Felix huffed, pushing backwards. “Yeah. Don’t…”

Obediently, Dimitri picked up the pace. He’d stopped holding back and oh, _oh_ . Felix’s toes curled. His whole body felt like it was running a marathon. Fighting the best fight of his fucking life. He was _born_ for this, to be so filled with something - _someone_ \- so strong and wild and _his_. Why had he denied himself this for so long? How many years had been wasted, when they could have been doing _this_?

“You’re so warm,” Dimitri praised in quick, worshipful breaths. “You open so well. Felix, you, truly - “ 

“Just like that. Like a fucking _beast_.” Felix moaned encouragement. “Want…” 

Dimitri’s teeth dug into his shoulder blade and Felix _howled_ and came apart.

He flopped bonelessly against the mattress but Dimitri wasn’t done. Not at all. Felix’s eyes fluttered as he whimpered, drowning in the sensation of his prince - his _king_ \- using him for all he was worth.

And then he heard Dimitri’s breath stutter, and then Felix felt himself being filled with warmth.

And filled.

And _filled_.

Goddess.

He was already so _stuffed_ and yet the pressure increased, each drag of Dimitri’s cock too much inside his over-sensitized body. Felix let out a sob, shivering as his own dick gave a weak jerk as he came again.

“Oh,” Dimitri murmured, his shaky hands settling momentarily on Felix’s lower spine. “Er. I seem to be… this feels…”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Felix agreed. His neck ached terribly. If only Dimitri would lean down, brush his teeth over that one spot. But he was full, and the pressure hit the perfect little bundle of nerves. Even if the Immaculate One herself came through a fucking building, Felix would still decide to stay exactly where he was.

“I appear to be stuck?”

“It’s your fucking _knot_.” That was supposed to hurt. It was always supposed to hurt for Betas. But it just felt _right_ , and Felix allowed himself to relax as his adrenaline drained away.

The small barrack was silent, save for the ever-slowing rhythm of their breaths. Outside, Felix could hear the distant call of triumphant horns - a battle won, a fortress taken. As if there was any doubt of their victory. Hah. 

Dimitri slowly, carefully slid out of him. Felix made a low whine, only settled down as Dimitri flopped onto his side and gathered him close, away from the mess they’d made on the blankets. Dimitri nosed at his throat, his too-long fingers roaming along Felix’s slightly swollen stomach.

Outside, there was a clatter of armor and horses. Someone was shouting.

The door swung open and Felix grimaced at the sudden burst of light.

Dedue stared at them both, face impassive.

Dimitri _growled_. It did odd things to Felix’s insides that he was too blissed out to analyze beyond a bemused contentment.

Dedue bowed and closed the door.

“Did you find them?” someone - Gilbert - asked.

“His Highness and Felix are unharmed. They are resting. I will stand guard.”

“Do I need to call a healer?”

“No. They are fine. Please bring them both a spare set of clothes, however.”

Issue One:

Felix had just - quite enthusiastically - bedded the boar.

Issue Two:

Twice.

Issue Three:

He could not seem to summon any kind of internal horror or indignance at the situation. In fact, he felt _good_ . Calmer. Each and every muscle well-used; the world had righted itself and centered everything, and the heat beneath his skin was _bearable_. There was still a disgusting dampness between his legs but he could manage. Mostly.

Issue Four:

Knots were absolutely supposed to hurt as a Beta. This simple fact was absolutely gnawing at him, along with the still-painful ache of his neck.

Issue Five:

It had only been a few hours and he was already starting to feel a painful emptiness that only Dimitri could fill. As if now that he’d tasted the boar, he would never get his fill of him.

Felix was decidedly not _sulking_ about it though. Felix Hugo Fraldarius did not sulk, especially over being separated from boars.

After some considerable time, they’d finally been clearheaded enough to very awkwardly return to the rest of the army. Luckily, the various soldiers were already more than a little inebriated and Dedue very patiently herded them to a quiet part of the innermost fortress where their former classmates were waiting and having their own raucous celebration.

Sylvain had taken one look at them both, cracked up laughing, and Felix had gone for the closest weapon.

Which led to his current situation. Tucked away in a small, clean room with a _minder_.

Well, two minders.

Neither of which were Dimitri.

Who he definitely _didn’t_ need. Yet.

He glowered at the wall and took another sip of the too-sweet tea Mercedes had brewed for him. It did take the edge off, even if the flavor was absolutely _terrible_. 

“So you two, wow. I guess Ashe wins the bet after all.” Annette sighed. “I thought you’d last for three months, at least.’

“Wha - “

“Annie, I’m sure Felix would like a little privacy right now.” Mercedes was sitting near the window, patching up someone’s torn cloak with little, careful stitches. She smelled like cinnamon. Not awful, but cloying enough for him to want some space to breathe. It had been unbearable as she’d checked him over for post-battle injuries.

“Right. Sorry. Um. So are you two going to stay together for the rest of your heat? I’m not sure that we can spare Dimitri for that long. Maybe if y-”

“I’m not _in_ heat.” The heat of battle, maybe. But this? Just another facet of the stupid curse.

Maybe that’s all he needed to do. Let Dimitri use him in every way imaginable until the whole thing was out of Felix’s system. They had the stamina for it.

Probably.

“I’ll check with Manuela once we all regroup. It’s not really healthy to put someone on suppressants so soon after they present, especially if they’re adults. Best to let someone’s body adjust naturally, and then prescribe something to help out.” Mercedes paused to look up, curious. “But you’ve already picked a partner and we are in a war, so it can’t really be helped either.”

“I didn’t _pick_ that boar. He jumped _me_.”

(And then Felix had jumped him back. Turnabout's fair play, his first swordmaster had said.)

“ _Felix_.” Annette rolled her eyes. “You liked it though, right?”

Felix bristled. Annette was sweet. And kind. And made the best songs about the strangest things. But she was _not_ helping.

(Yes. He’d liked it. Especially when Dimitri had done that thing with his teeth, and the way his tongue had swiped at -)

“I think it’s sweet." Mercedes smiled indulgently. “I know you two have a very long history, but you can finally have him back. Almost like both of you were waiting to reconnect and present together.”

Felix choked on his tea.

“That is true,” Annette mused, ignoring Felix’s sputtered curses. “Guess it was a given that sooner or later His Highness would need to mate and,” she flushed, “have little baby Dimitris. Oh, I don’t want to think about that at all.”

Someone else…

Mating…

With Dimitri.

“Felix, please don’t murder anyone here. You look really scary right now.”

Felix couldn’t sleep. Not that he’d done much of anything other than scowl and try to ease some of the stupid horniness that still plagued him at all hours. Annette and Mercedes had finally, thankfully, let him have some space even though he was certain someone was posted on the outside of the door.

As if he couldn’t defend himself from some misguided, moronic Alpha. Who clearly had the wrong idea.

He groaned in frustration and pushed his head into the pillows. They were going to move on in two days to reunite with the main force and then head to the Alliance. Because Claude _asked_ them to. As if Claude deserved salvation, when he’d stood idly by while Faerghus had been torn apart. As if the Alliance had done anything for five years besides claim paper-thin neutrality. 

He had better things to do than be stuck in bed. Or worse, be left behind.

The door creaked and Felix jerked up, glaring. His hand went beneath his pillow for a knife. (At least Mercedes and Annette hadn’t ferreted _that_ out of him.)

“Felix?”

Thank the Goddess.

No.

Dammit.

Felix sat up and pointedly crossed his legs to hide the dampness. “What?”

“Is it all right for me to come in?”

“It’s too late to be awake. Especially for the leader of the army.”

Dimitri moved slowly inside. The small light coming from a half-used candle by the bed bathed him in odd shadows, but it was how Felix had always seen the other - in fractured halves that he’d spent years putting together.

In the dim light, his ruined eye looked milky-white and otherworldly. Felix didn’t understand why Dimitri was so insistent on covering it. It was just as much a mark of his survival as any other scar.

No matter what, he’d survived. And Dimitri was finally starting to act like it.

“How are you feeling?” Dimitri moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. Close enough to smell, but still not close enough to touch. Not unless Felix _wanted_ to reach for him.

Horny. “Gross.”

“Should I service you?” Dimitri halted and managed a weak cough. “That is to say, if you are still feeling uncomfortable and I can assist in any way, I am -”

Felix withheld an internal scream. He was above such emotional outbursts. “Just use your hand. Or mouth. So I no longer have to hear your _awful_ attempt at foreplay.” He spread his legs. “This doesn’t _mean_ anything, I hope you know.”

Still, Dimitri's mouth on his dick, fingers sliding in and out, the wet sounds and little huffs, that was…

Felix thought of some other pretty, _fragile_ thing beneath Dimitri’s hands and suppressed a possessive growl.


	5. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU BETANON!!!

Absolutely none of the soldiers spoke of their activities over the past week.

Absolutely no one _dared_.

Still, Felix knew he was being unnecessarily vicious as he made a show of packing his weapons and adjusting his belts. Just to remind his battalion exactly why he belonged on the front lines of their army.

And he _did_ belong there. 

Dimitri was busy speaking with the others, far more restrained in his preparations. He was wearing his silver armor instead of the classic black (probably because Felix had done a number on the metal trying to tear it off).

It looked clean. Majestic..

Still worn by a beast. Felix knew that intimately well.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Sylvain said from beside Felix as they escorted their horses to the edge of the fortress. “Might want to adjust your turtleneck though. You’ve got a spot right - “

“ _Shut up_.”

His neck hurt, but in entirely the wrong way.

“Still want to say you’re a Beta?” Sylvain tilted his head, amused. “Because you know I’ll support you when you make it official with His Highness.”

“It would be a pity if Ingrid found out you were flirting with that blacksmith two days ago.”

“Felix! You wouldn’t!”

Dimitri’s gaze swept his way and Felix flushed. He watched Dimitri give the signal to move out, alive and present and commanding and not at all like the broken creature they’d found in the monastery so many moons ago.

“You always look for him.”

“What?” Why was Sylvain still chattering again?

“You used to do it as a kid too. Didn’t matter what we were playing, but you always looked around for His Highness and would be a little brat until you found him. If I ever wanted to win at hide and seek, I’d just follow you because you always went to him first.” Sylvain stared wistfully upwards, at the warm morning sun. “I kind of miss that. When we were all cute.”

Felix’s chest felt far too tight. “You were never cute.”

“You sure liked to put daisies in my hair for someone that you didn’t think was cute.”

Why did Sylvain remember _everything_? 

He flinched only a little as Sylvain’s gloved hand patted his shoulder. “He gets mopey when you’re not around too, you know.”

Then he should bite down on Felix’s neck and _mean it_ and be done with it.

 _Dammit all_.

There was a new fur hood folded neatly at the entrance to his tent.

It was a beautiful thing. Too beautiful, really. The fabric itself was dark blue and well-made, created for a hunter in the wilds instead of some courtesan on a royal’s arm. The fur was blue-black and thick, most likely from one of the grim, sharp-eyed wolves that roamed the north of Faerghus.

Felix buried his face in the softness and let out a frustrated groan.

“Didn’t we _talk_ about this?” Ugh. Felix hated that word. “Dimitri.”

They’d set up camp near a large river on the outskirts of a border village. It allowed for a brief respite and, Felix suspected, served to scare off any bandits in the area. 

But it also meant that a certain prince was indulging in old habits. Like using frozen rivers to bathe in instead of inns with tubs full of warm water.

(How many times, during his exile, had he done something similar? Or used frozen water to escape from Imperial hounds? It made Felix ill to think about.)

“What did we talk about?” Dimitri looked up, soap still sticking to his hair. His waist was still mostly under the current, but Felix could imagine him all the same. The little scar on his inner thigh. The fine, dusty hairs near his navel that Felix had learned made Dimitri ticklish if he nibbled there. The stupidly big - 

“You know what I mean.” It was a deep river, and he followed the bed until he saw a large rock sticking upwards from a deep, dark patch.

Stupid.

Felix tugged his boots off and rolled his trousers up. Utterly stupid. Dimitri needed better minders around him at all times. “Get over here.”

Obediently, Dimitri followed him to the edge. He still stood a little above the waterline, but it would be manageable.

“I’m talking about that _gift_.” Felix sat down and began batting water off Dimitri’s broad shoulders. “Give me your soap.”

“Ah. The hood? Do you like it?” Dimitri held up the small bar of wax and scent he’d been clinging to. Felix soured at the unfamiliar, _not-Dimitri_ smell.

“That’s not the point.” Felix tugged a few strands of hair. “Didn’t I tell you that we’re - “

“Oh. No, it was not a courting gift.”

“Yes. Because we aren’t - “

“Because you are a Beta, as you said.”

 _No!_ “Yes.” Dimitri lolled his head, letting Felix’s fingers dig into his scalp as much as he desired. And Felix very much desired to turn that mess into something more respectful. 

“I feel terribly guilty that yours is in the shape it is in.”

“Then you shouldn’t have tried to use it as a blanket to bed me with.” Not that Felix had been complaining at the time. He should have. He’d just been _occupied_. He seemed to be getting consistently occupied late at night. Because Dimitri didn’t sleep properly and Felix’s stupid cursed body kept getting urges. “You have better use for your coin than giving me gifts.”

“Oh no, I did not pay that much for it.” Dimitri blinked up at him, and Felix considered leaning down to bite that foolish mouth. “A merchant allowed me to have it in return for carting several barrels of wine for her.”

“Wine.”

”She said it was necessary for the village’s annual festival.”

“And you believed her.”

Dimitri smiled. “No. But the villagers seemed happy enough watching me carry the barrels into the village square.”

Of course they would. Knowing Dimitri, he’d probably carried two of them at once. On his shoulders. Muscles flexing, and slightly sweaty, maybe even without his armor on - 

“I am worried she was charging a fee for them to watch me though. There seemed to be an unnecessary amount of onlookers as I worked.”

Goddess.

Why did he lo -

 _Lie_ with such a fool of a prince.

“You can’t be going around fulfilling the desires of some greedy merchant.”

“I know. But it was,” Dimitri paused, tilting his head as Felix began pouring cold water over his forehead and through his hair. “It was nice. To help a village without spilling blood.”

Felix’s hands ghosted over Dimitri’s temples again. Along his stupidly defined jawline, and his warm throat. Dimitri blinked upwards, waiting.

It would be so easy to lean down. In fact, Dimitri was turning around, reaching for him, gaze darkened and heavy. And Felix couldn’t seem to think why that was so bad. Having Dimitri all to himself. Getting claimed, and claiming what was his in turn. Before another upstart could try taking what was _his_ by his birth, by his blood, by virtue of just being Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

Dimitri sneezed.

Felix jerked back, blinking.

“Ah. Perhaps I should get out now.”

Felix rapped his head gently with his knuckles.

The next gift was an Almyran hunting knife made from genuine wyvern fang, with a corded handle and a silver coin tied in with leather string at the hilt.

Felix tucked the coin into Dimitri’s palm that night and nuzzled at his throat as they rutted together, determined to get that stupid soap scent off of him and replace it with his own.

The Imperial banners were all over the roads leading to Derdriu. But so far, the skirmishes had been few and far between. As if Arundel didn’t care if he won or lost, so long as he took out the Alliance in the process.

Felix didn’t like it. Either Arundel was purposely baiting them into a battle at the Alliance capital, or there would be more forces coming behind them to trap the Kingdom Army. Either way, it was an unnecessary risk.

He glanced at Sylvain, then upwards to where Ingrid and her battalion of pegasus riders were swooping low. Somewhere on the horizon, he could make out little black dots of wyverns, engaged in some kind of battle. The scent of the sea was heavy and unfamiliar, and a part of his brain kept recalling the soothing, cold scent of Dimitri curled around him two nights ago.

He curled his fingers around his Aegis Shield. Felix didn’t really like using it, exactly. It was heavy, for one. It had too many unpleasant memories attached to it, for another. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered to carry it for so many years, outside that his old man had done nothing to reclaim it.

Still. Arundel was smart enough to use as many arrows as he could find against an enemy with wyverns. And if he’d heard anything about the man in the past several years, it was that his personal troops didn’t serve him out of loyalty. They were just terrified of what would be waiting for them if they failed.

“You okay?” Sylvain asked offhandedly.

“I’m fine.” Felix spurred his horse into a gait as the noise of battle picked up. “Let’s get this over with.”

There were indeed arrows everywhere. And magic, sparking down in thick, viscous balls of black that reeked of death and poison. Dimitri stayed close to him, some old rhythm snapping back into place as if it had always existed. If Dimitri swung left with his lance, Felix was already two steps to the right, clearing his path. If a soldier aimed for Felix’s front, Dimitri was already at his back, parrying attack after attack. Felix felt _good_ , focused, _alive_ and his entire body thrummed with elation as they cut through more and more Imperial forces towards the unmistakable white wyvern and its rider. 

A general swung downwards with his axe towards Dimitri’s hip and Felix was already in place, blocking the attack with his shield. He threw his knife out, landing in the man’s throat. But there wasn’t time to preen, because a group of mages came hurtling forward. Felix moved with practiced ease, his shield’s weight no longer even the least bit of a hindrance.

And then Dimitri saw Arundel. And Felix could _see_ it - the tenseness, the sharpness of his movements as the beast was ready to rear its ugly, vicious head.

But it was _Dimitri_ \- the whole of him - that cut the man down, surrounded by the excited cheers of two armies.

And it was all, blessedly, over.

Felix felt someone clap his shoulder from behind. He spun, dizzy.

Dedue. 

In front of him, Claude and Dimitri were already talking, surrounded by Claude’s troops. Felix needed to go stake his claim, get between them because Dimitri was _his_ , dammit, and…

“I think we should get some water. It is very warm here.”

“Right.” Feilx grudgingly agreed.

“I don’t want tea.” Felix grumbled. Especially in the Goddess-damned heat of the port. A part of him had always wanted to see what Derdriu looked like, but not if it meant feeling as though you were covered in a sticky, sweaty sludge.

 _Humidity_ , Lysithea had told him once. _It’s not that bad if you’re used to it_.

All lies, of course.

“It is just water with lemon.” Dedue looked mildly puzzled. “I did not think you would want tea.”

“I don’t.”

They were sitting in the shade of some tavern which was apparently celebrating the Imperial defeat by giving out drinks to every single soldier that walked through. Some incredibly obnoxious person had already begun singing some shanty about lost maidens and sea witches.

There would be prisoners to round up. Bodies to bury and give last rites. Weapons to dole out and repurpose. More fortifications to attend to, because there was no guarantee a second wave of the Empire’s forces wouldn’t be barreling down with both the leaders of the Kingdom Army and the Alliance forces tucked neatly in one spot.

And he didn’t like having Dimitri out of his sight. There could still be Imperials hiding in corners with an assassin’s knife. Or Sylvain, putting terrible ideas into Dimitri’s head. Or some pretty, soft Omega, bewitched by Dimitri’s smile, and encroaching on Felix’s - 

Felix scoffed.

“You and His Highness have been spending a great deal of time together,” Dedue started.

“So do you.” Dedue was with Dimitri early in the morning, after Felix had escaped to his own bed. He was there during the day, a silent shadow as Dimitri managed troops and pored over maps and wrote letters. He was nearby at dinner, when Dimitri had started teasing Felix about old, embarrassing stories to whoever was in earshot.

He was not there when Felix followed Dimitri into his tent, ostensibly to go over battle strategies. Which they did.

Among other things.

Until the annoying itch beneath Felix’s skin finally settled down into contentment and he was sated enough to sleep.

Felix didn’t have an issue with Dedue being nearby, now that he considered it. Or Ingrid. Both of them spoke with Dimitri all the time without provoking Felix’s ire. They didn’t smell like anything in particular either.

(Felix was not concerned that Ashe smelled like kitchens or Annette smelled like warm apples and Mercedes, and what that meant. Or that Sylvain smelled like burning wood and the onset of fall.)

“I am his vassal. It is my place.” The Duscur man gripped gently to his own drink. “You have been taking contraceptives, haven’t you?”

Felix choked on his water. “I don’t _need_ to!” Goddess. 

Looking at Dedue was like trying to stare down a mountain. Felix didn’t like looking at people as it was, and he and Dedue had never been on the best of terms. Instead, Felix tried to turn his attention to whatever the drunken fool was carousing about now. 

“We had a saying, when I was young. ‘The apple tree will cling tightly to its fruit with all the strength it has. But the earth does not care, for sooner or later, the apples will fall into the grass all the same.’”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Why should a tree care about apples?”

“The better question is, why does the apple care to still cling to the tree? None of them can stop nature.”

They weren’t talking about apples then. Felix took a drink of his water. “I hated taking apart metaphors.”

Dedue hummed. He leaned forward, arms crossed on the wooden table, and there was no way for Felix to avoid that piercing stare.

“After this war is over, Felix, what do you intend to do?”

Felix was not an apple. Or a tree. Or a lawn. He was most assuredly not a lawn.

He was still a little sweaty as he entered Dimitri’s quarters late, long after the moon had risen. Parties were still happening outside, but Claude had been noticeably absent. Even Hilda had said nothing about where he’d slipped off to.

Dimitri had _that_ face.

Felix scowled. “You’re being maudlin.”

His prince glanced up and leaned back, hands sliding onto Felix’s waist as Felix settled on Dimitri’s thighs. Felix already felt that stupid dampness again, annoyingly, grudgingly familiar but still unpleasant.

“Claude has given me the Alliance.”

What.

“Speak plainly, Dimitri.”

Dimitri leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “As I said. After centuries of independence, the Leicester Alliance has formally voted to fold back into the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Our lands have doubled.” His hands pressed along Felix’s hips, then back to run along his spine, lower, cupping at Felix’s rump.

“You mean Claude bailed.” Felix sneered. “And left us his entire country.”

“That seems to be the case, yes.” Dimitri still smelled like sweat and the slight metallic scent of blood. But it was wholly his, and not that awful soap. “I fear they’ve unanimously voted me to lead them.”

“Were Hilda and Lorenz not qualified enough?”

“Hilda said she preferred to have a manicure. I believe Lorenz was called ‘too tedious and thinks he rose everything.’”

Did he just…?

Felix snorted. Once. Twice.

And then he and Dimitri both descended into hysterical chuckles on the floor, Felix groaned, swatting at Dimtiri’s shoulder before another stupid laugh escaped his throat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Did I boar you?” Dimitri smiled, open and genuine, and it was a much nicer sight than the dour stare from earlier.

Felix’s insides twisted up. He wanted -

He wanted.

Dimitri had already read his mind. He moved on top, enveloping Felix in warmth and strength, and Felix obligingly lifted his hips so Dimtiri could free him from his clothes. It was not the hurried rush of after a life or death battle, or the driving hunger that lit his entire body on fire, only to be quelled when he was knotted and filled.

It was just the two of them, remembering each other, filling in all the little corners and raw edges like they _belonged_ together.

Dimitri mouthed at Felix’s skin and Felix groaned, eagerly trying to take him deeper. Felix scratched at Dimitri’s back and Dimitri growled, possessive and hungry. Felix took Dimitri’s knot with a languid moan, and Dimitri rewarded his talent with sucking bruises.

The kind that would stick out on his skin, showing the world who he belonged to.

Afterwards, tangled together, Felix rubbed at his stomach and thought about the warmth of Dimitri’s spend still inside.

“Is something wrong?” Dimitri asked muzzily. 

“Are you going to mate? With some Omega?”

Dimitri raised his head, blinking. His hand skimmed up and he gently turned Felix’s face so he could mouth at his neck, right at the always-aching spot.

The next morning, Felix rose early, when the sun was still rising and everything was stained in pinks and greys.

He found a piece of paper, an ink bottle, and a reinforced quill placed neatly in Dimitri’s things. Felix padded quietly over to a small table near a window and looked out at the port city.

He started writing to his father. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun story but as I was typing in "what do you gift with knife" it is apparently considered very bad luck to gift a knife to someone you care about, and the appropriate way to gift it is with a coin / money that they return immediately.
> 
> I can just see Dimitri now, handing over more ridiculously large knives, then short swords, then swords, and each time Felix hands him some kind of shiny thing to be like "paid for."  
> And then one day Dimitri drags in Cloud's Buster sword and Felix is like "hold on let me go get my entire life savings."


	6. Culminations

His father’s response came as the Kingdom Army returned to Garreg Mach. Felix snatched the package away from the messenger and rushed back to his quarters before anyone could ask any questions.

His hands only trembled a little as he unwound the string holding the entire thing together. He pulled the parchment free to reveal two thin boxes – one of which contained an unpleasant amount of papers with small text and his father’s scribbled letter on top. The other box was more familiar, with the Fraldarius crest etched into the dark black wood.

It still hurt to see his older brother’s ceremonial dagger. Maybe it would never stop.

Felix ran his thumb along the weapon as he read his old man’s letter. It was long – more words than they’d spoken in many years. And he didn’t feel better reading it, exactly. Cleaner, maybe. There was no point in being angry at a man who couldn’t even stand up to argue with him. 

His return letter was much shorter.

The next part was harder. But curses were curses, and the Empire had flatly refused to take any attempt at communication with them. The Archbishop was still missing, but Claude had provided intel that she was being held at the capital, barely alive.

They were going to march on Enbarr. To settle things, one way or another.

And Felix was not going to let some little ache between his legs prevent him from seeing the war through to its conclusion.

“Mercedes.”

Mercedes looked up from the book she was reading. She’d been assisting more around the chapel and the infirmary, and it was rare to see her alone without tending to either an injured soldier or a scared civilian that just needed some comfort and a prayer.

“Do you have more of those – “ Felix flushed. He was a swordsman. He’d fought _monsters_ on a regular basis. This was just another challenge. “That _thing_ you gave me earlier.”

“Oh, the tea. For your little _issue_.” She smiled, and Felix had the unpleasant realization that he was being _humored_. “Did it help?”

He still had an irrational craving for boars. And the heat and discomfort was flaring up again, right when he didn’t want to deal with it. But the thought of being sidelined again, being stuck inside like an invalid when Dimitri and the others were out in the thick of the action, that was unacceptable. “I need it to stop. Before we march.”

“Well, I suppose we can use something stronger for a little while. You haven’t noticed anything different, have you?” Mercedes set the book down and stood up. She went to a small cabinet full of dried herbs and brightly colored salves in jars of various sizes. “Everything feel fine?”

“It feels _annoying._ ” There did seem to be an ebb and a flow to the _urges_ , but Felix wasn’t going to touch that thought too deeply. Not right now. Not when they had a war to finish.

“I’ll just give you this then.” Mercedes pulled out a small bag of round red candies. “It’s pretty strong though, so you may not like it. Annie says taking them is like burying yourself in sponge cake.”

“That sounds disgusting.” Felix took the candies and glowered at them. It would be easier to just let Dimitri mate him, to be full and stuffed and –

Damn boars.

“It really does get easier. Even nice, I’m told.” Mercedes smiled, and somehow, it didn’t look quite right. She curled her hands together, and Felix caught the slight shake of her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Felix crossed his arms. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing’.”

“We really are going to have to march, aren’t we?” Mercedes sat down again, looking down at her hands. “Do you remember me mentioning my brother?”

Felix frowned.

“I didn’t realize at first but I recognized his smell on the battlefield. Even earlier, really. But I don’t know why. And,” her voice trembled, “I’m absolutely certain we’re going to see him again before this is over.”

Felix wasn’t good with reassurances. Or comfort. He’d been _terrible_ at comforting others. Even now, when he was _trying_ , he just felt too tight in his own skin. “You can’t blame yourself for his choices.”

“I know.” Mercedes sniffled quietly. “But I wish I could have saved him from his pain. Every day, I think, if I’d just done something differently, then maybe – “

 _If I’d spoken up sooner. If I hadn’t called him a beast for_ **_years_** _. If I’d just…_

He hated the twisting, aching pain in his chest that always spread into every part of Felix’s being. Maybe that was another part of the problem. That Dimitri could be wrested away from him all over again, and Felix would be helpless to stop it. He’d _always_ been helpless to stop it.

But he had a sword. And a shield. And he could cut through any Imperial soldier that dared aim at his Al – his prince. 

His head hurt.

“Anyway.” Mercedes rallied with a soft smile. “I have Annie. And all of you. At the very least, maybe, I can finally give him some peace. Like you say, we just have to keep moving forward, no matter what.”

“Thanks.” Felix awkwardly gripped her shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

He didn’t protest – too terribly – as she enveloped him in a warm hug.

Mercedes hadn’t been lying. Felix, for the first time in what seemed like ages, didn’t feel warm. But he also didn’t feel _right_ , like his body was just two steps too slow. Dimitri seemed to notice as well, judging from the little pout as they met that morning.

Dimitri was holding a new whetstone and a bottle of oil. Felix snatched them away and tucked them into his bag.

“You’re sulking.”

“I am not,” Dimitri said a little too quickly. “Is everything fine?”

“Is it?” Felix looked up, studying Dimitri’s face for any sign of something amiss. He wasn’t pale, but there was a strain there all the same. Too caught up in his head, possibly, or some deeper issue with the Emperor. 

“You just seem,” Dimitri hesitated, “uncomfortable?”

“Don’t you have an army to worry about?” They fell into step together, moving right towards the front of the ranks. Everyone looked ready, almost relieved to finally be heading towards an end. With the addition of Alliance forces, they had quite an expansive army spread out all across the continent.

But it was still the Empire. Felix refused to get complacent. Goddess knew what sort of dark magic they had hidden away in shadowy corners.

Still. As Dimitri raised his hand, ready to give the order to move out, he allowed himself a brief spark of hope that they would get out alive.

And after that, if they managed to survive the whole war?

His brother’s dagger was safe, tucked deep in his boot. Hidden away, for the time being.

Until Felix decided.

“You’re _sulking_ ,” Felix repeated against Dimitri’s chest. He was _tired_ , and sore, and had gone against his better judgment in going to Dimitri’s tent so late. The past few weeks had been one battle after another as they’d pushed onwards towards the capital. And even with the candies Mercedes had given him, he’d felt more and more anxious until he’d gotten Dimitri alone and surrounded himself with the other’s scent.

And as expected, Dimitri hadn’t been sleeping either.

“Don’t laugh.” Felix kicked him – lightly. “You smell different.”

What. “ _Boar._ Are you pouting because of how I _smell_?”

Goddess. He really did have that particular downturn of his lips, and Felix didn’t have it in him to be angry. Dimitri’s face was just too ridiculous for that.

“It’s muted, I suppose. I was worried that you were ill.” Dimitri nuzzled into his hair like some dog sniffing out a treat. Beast. Felix’s legs opened anyway to allow Dimitri to rut against him. “I like your smell.”

“I’m going to cut your nose off at this rate. I don’t _smell_.”

“Do you remember when we were young and we used to visit your territory and play out in that meadow? Near the big river that was always frozen over.”

Felix did. They’d fight and wrestle for hours while Ingrid fussed about damaged clothes and Sylvain would declare himself above it all before he’d take down the winner because he had more height than all of them.

“If you say I smell like ice, I’m going to leave.”

“No.” He could feel Dimitri’s smile pressing against his head. “You smell like the snowflowers. And swords, of course. I can’t quite explain it besides that it is _you_.”

“You’re so – “Felix ducked his head, trying to hide the heat in his face.

“After the war is over. When… obviously I will have my work cut out for me. I know it. But Felix, will you?” Dimtiri’s voice trailed off, as though he was hesitant to even bring up that far ahead. "You have always been willing to call me out if I stray too far from my own path."

The air felt too warm. Felix felt like he couldn’t quite breathe, and he couldn’t seem to hear anything other than the way his heart was trying to escape his ribcage.

It had all been so simple, before. Survive. Get stronger. Learn the sword, and live by the sword. Mourn Dimitri and move on because _his_ Dimitri was long gone.

“What are you going to do? When you meet the Emperor?”

Dimitri stilled, his dick achingly close to exactly where Felix wanted it. He’d missed that dick lately. It hit all the right places inside of him.

“Are you still going to take her head off?” The beast had been under control lately, but it was still there. Always there. Always a part of Dimitri that Felix hadn’t wanted to see.

“I’ve sent a messenger to request a parley. I suppose I still hope that this can be resolved peacefully.”

Peacefully. A war that had dragged on for five years, full of loss and grief and anger and far too many bodies. Felix had cut and slain and found a beast, and found _Dimitri_ , and nearly lost his old man and -

And _this_ thing. With his stupid, traitorous body. That made him think and feel and _want_ so much.

“What would you have me do, Felix?” Dimitri looked at him, and Felix ignored the pain in his neck. He’d done an excellent job of ignoring that lately.

“Forge ahead. Finish this. However you need to.” He pushed, gently, and Dimitri obligingly rolled onto his back. “And fuck me properly, while you’re at it.”

Dimitri smiled.

Maybe Dimitri wasn’t the one who needed to get out of his head.

“I’ve already spoken to my father. When this is over, I’m going to formally request knighthood.” Ingrid was almost drooling over her brisket. With how hard they’d marched lately, meals together had been less of a priority than resting and gearing up for the next battle.

“I think it might be nice to be a teacher. Talking about magic instead of using it would be a good change of pace, you know?” Annette smiled over a huge, disgustingly syrupy pastry.

“What about you, Sylvain? You still want to travel the continent looking for ladies?” Ashe asked.

“I do not believe Ingrid would appreciate that,” Dedue rumbled.

Awkward silence descended on the small group.

“Erm, yeah. We haven’t really _told_ anyone. Have to get the details sorted out first,” Sylvain mumbled with more embarrassment than Felix had ever seen.

“Apologies.”

“Oh. Uh. Congratulations? Or not? Um. Felix! What are you going to do, Felix?” Ashe hastily pivoted to less dangerous topics.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be a mercenary still?” Annette blinked her big, soft eyes at him. “You can’t keep fighting _everybody_ Felix.”

“Is he still using that line?” Ingrid’s lips thinned. “I thought that was just a teenage thing.”

“I’ll do what I feel like.” Felix grimaced. “Who puts sugar on bacon?”

The next morning, Felix sent another letter to his father. He didn’t expect an answer, not immediately, but it would be coming.

Two days later, Dimitri returned from his parley. Felix let Dimitri nuzzle against his neck, and Felix murmured low hums as he felt the tenseness in those broad shoulders. He hadn’t expected any sort of peaceful end – none of them did, but Dimitri had _tried_.

“No regrets,” Felix murmured against his ear. He tilted his head, and Dimitri began licking at the ache on his throat. “We move on.”

“No regrets,” Dimitri repeated.

Felix only grumbled a _little_ as Dimitri wrapped his hair in a new, velvet-blue ribbon. It wasn’t Felix’s fault that his old one had gotten lost in their blankets.

Two more days, and they rode towards Enbarr. Behind Felix, the banners of House Fraldarius flew proudly in the southern wind.

It didn’t feel like a victory. The soldiers there fought to the bitter end, but there seemed to be a tiredness to it all. The main threat came in the form of those black-masked mages, and the huge demonic beasts that rampaged around Enbarr. A last, stubborn stand, and one that seemed entirely wasteful to Felix. There was nothing to protect besides an Emperor that hid behind her stone walls. 

Or had been an Emperor. The thing that awaited them inside was no longer human. A terrible beast, cloaked in black and reds, and devoted only to destruction. Felix felt no guilt for cutting through the strange, _wrong-smelling_ mages as Dimitri battled with the creature. He was beautiful, Felix thought through the haze of battle. Perfect. Unyielding.

 _Alive_.

And then it was over.

Truly, completely over.

Felix found himself unable to move as the world erupted into a victorious cheer. It didn’t seem real. The cheers, the sunlight, the white flags signaling the Empire’s surrender.

Dimitri came over slowly, and Felix could tell just by how he moved that his arm wasn’t working right. Felix ran his hands over Dimitri’s shoulder, scowling.

“I’m fine,” Dimitri murmured, pushing their foreheads together. “I’m alive.”

“You’re beautiful,” Felix replied, breathy, dazed. Heat pooled in his belly and traveled lower, dampness dripping between his thighs. “Dimitri.”

“Stay with me.” Dimitri’s huge hands came up, cradling his jaw. “Felix. My Felix. Stay with me.”

“Stay with me,” Dimitri begged as he pushed Felix up against a random Imperial wall, grinding against him. They weren’t noticed, or maybe they were, because everyone else was already drunk and celebrating and they weren’t - _yet  
_

“Stay with me,” Dimitri repeated, fucking so deep into Felix that Felix saw stars.

“Stay with me,” Dimitri whispered, clutching Felix into his lap and forcing his knot up against the spot that made Felix sob in relief.

“Stay with me,” Dimitri demanded, forcing Felix to come a fourth time. Dimitri’s teeth scraped against Felix’s neck, teasing completion. Wholeness. All he had to do was say yes. Submit. _Be_. 

That morning, Felix tossed the red candies into a waste bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone say THANK YOU to Betanon!


	7. Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone thank the Betanon again.

“Okay, but why are there _swords_ everywhere?” Annette asked. As if she didn’t actually know the answer.

“Because they have to go somewhere,” Felix replied haughtily. Just because the war was technically over didn’t mean he needed to retire any of his weapons. A weapon deserved respect, and hanging them – temporarily – on the wall seemed just as good a place as anything.

“You’re so _weird_ , Felix.” She shook her head. “So – guess we’re all going to be busy soon.”

“Yeah.” Dimitri’s coronation hadn’t even happened yet. The war had ended, but that didn’t mean things were _settled_. Troops had to be moved around or disbanded, interim lords had to be assigned to various places to help manage any unrest and get supply routes up and running. Treasuries needed to be inventoried, roads rebuilt, all the little things that couldn’t be solved with a sword.

Right now though, Felix was intent on changing his quarters around. Blankets and furs were placed out in a comfortable arrangement and the old, rickety furniture that had served him well enough in the last year was tossed out and repurposed.

It still didn’t feel like _his_ , but the smell and layout was comfortable enough for the time being. Felix had never been one for opulence and indulgences.

It would serve its purpose.

“You know this kind of looks like – “ Annette started.

She squeaked as she fell forward, over a blanket she'd brought Felix just an hour ago. After all their hard work, it would be a cruel twist for one trip to ruin it. 

“Why would you put a trunk _right next to the bed_?!”

The heat wasn’t so oppressive today. The weather had been fair, but Felix was sweating as he walked down the hallway, clutching tight to his dagger and the stacks of parchment paper with renewed determination.

Dimitri was as expected, inside the large meeting room with various lords and knights. He’d been there every day. The center of a never-ending whirlwind. Felix didn’t know why he was so tolerant of all the foolish chatter when he could just as easily demand complete and utter fealty.

But if he did, Felix would have already left. A king that ruled by force was not worth dying for.

“Ah, Felix, are you – “

Felix tossed the dagger onto the table.

The chatter dissipated as everyone looked up at him. A few Alphas perked to attention as they smelled the air. Felix ignored them. They didn’t matter. The only one that did was Dimitri, and he had the good sense to focus more on the weapon.

“Is that not House Fraldarius’s ceremonial weapon?” Gilbert asked, confused.

“It’s _mine._ ” Felix stood tall, haughty. “I want a tournament.”

“Felix.” Sylvain sighed. “Do you really think right now’s –“

“Enough, Sylvain. I outrank you now.” This time, Felix tossed down the parchments. “My old man’s already ceded everything to me.” All the legalities had already been ironed out, and all his cousins and relatives had already agreed to the change. It was hard to say no, when the heir had won a war.

 _That_ got everyone’s attention. The table lit up with hurried questions and congratulations and noise, more than Felix really wanted to hear. Instead, he only fixated on Dimitri, who still waited. Trying his best to look like a proper leader.

Dimitri reached out to pull the dagger close to him. He ran his gloved fingers along the edges of the blade, thumb right up against the silver. A lover’s touch.

Felix refused to make it _that_ easy.

“If our Duke,” Dimitri nearly purred the word, “wants a tournament, I see no reason to deny him. What prize do you suggest, Felix?”

 _You know._ “I have many things I can offer.”

“Are you, Goddess, _Felix._ ” Sylvain groaned. Beside him, Ingrid was already burying her face in her hands.

“Then this weekend. A tournament, and all present who want to attend or partake, may do so. It will not hurt to take one day to ourselves.” Dimitri smiled. Felix felt his mouth water.

“This weekend.”

“You could ask him to mate with you. It’s simple. ‘Dimitri, let’s make our mating official.’ There.”

“That’s not the point.” Felix swung his sword a few times. He’d practiced every day, like normal, but the weight of this particular blade was different. It was dulled; designed only to be ceremonial over hurting someone. 

“You can’t go _a month_ without putting your sword through someone?” Sylvan rolled his eyes. “You reek, by the way. A lot. It’s a good thing I’m a mated man.”

Felix stretched and ignored the warmth rolling through his skin. He was not ruled by instincts. He wasn’t going to let some stupid _urges_ make him fail.

Especially not with the prize waiting at the end. That would be worth it.

“Good luck. Don’t do something stupid, all right?” Sylvain winked.

Felix nodded.

The tournament was hosted outside in the old perimeter of the churchyard. Only nobles and select soldiers were allowed to attend, the threat of assassination still a possibility. The Archbishop stood at the edge of a chalk-drawn circle, serving as the judge.

Dimitri was already there. Dressed in fitted blues and whites, holding tight to an iron lance. His hair was tied back and he looked –

Fuck.

Felix really wanted to taste.

He held his head up high as he entered the ring for the first round. His opponent was some merchant from Gloucester territory – a burly Alpha with a scar over his chin and sharp eyes.

He lasted all of one minute before Felix had him on the ground, blade pointed at his throat.

His next opponent was some Church of Seiros knight. A Beta, perhaps, and a little too eager. His third opponent was some Adrestian Alpha, sharp and strong and too full of himself.

Felix ignored the cheer of the crowds (and the perturbed looks coming from Ingrid and Sylvain) as he emerged victorious. This wasn’t for their benefit.

He took a break and some additional water, more aware of the sweat gathering between his legs. There were some decidedly _good_ combatants, up and comers that had been honed by battles. A few he’d even consider taking on as apprentices, if the time was right.

Felix cut through each and every one of them. Alphas and Betas. Nobles and commoners alike. Each one walked off with their tail between their legs and their instincts bruised.

Finally, as the afternoon sun began to set, as Felix was swimming in heat and hunger, there was only one opponent left. His target, standing proud and regal near the Archbishop.

Dimitri smiled, revealing white teeth. He strode to the circle, ignoring the murmurs of the onlookers and the heavy thrumming in the air.

“Well met, Duke.” Dimitri gave a half-bow and Felix snorted.

“Don’t humor me.”

“I don’t intend to.” Dimitri stepped back and raised his lance.

The Archbishop dropped her hand, signaling the beginning of the match..

Felix thrust forward, and Dimitri stepped back. The burning ache between his legs grew only more pronounced, but it was countered by how much Felix’s blood began to sing. A worthy opponent – a worthy _mate_ that viewed him not as some submissive whelp to be bedded but someone to be conquered. Won and wooed, through sheer skill and strength alone.

Each time he got close, Dimitri parried.

Each time Dimitri struck, Felix countered.

“Are you doing well, Felix?” Dimitri asked, blocking a blow to his right.

Felix smirked, twisting his sword to swing at Dimitri’s knee. He was hot, too hot, facing against the beast and the man and wanting both of them. “Never better.”

Dimitri swung his lance and Felix stumbled. The heat – the _want_ was too overwhelming.

He landed on the ground, Dimitri’s hand wrapped around his throat.

If someone was saying anything, Felix didn’t hear them. If something was going on, it didn’t matter.

Dimitri’s teeth dug into Felix’s neck, right at the burning spot, and he could only moan his pleasure.

Goddess only knew how they made it back to Felix’s quarters. Sylvain working the crowd perhaps, or some other miracle. Felix only knew that the ache in his neck was finally, blessedly, _gone_.

“Hurry it up.” Felix hissed, being entirely unhelpful as Dimitri pushed him down against the wide array of blankets. He ached, oh he ached, and nothing would make him feel better but having Dimitri inside him, buried so deep Felix would feel him for _days_.

Dimitri laughed; a low, husky sound. Felix squirmed, pushing upwards, desperate to be free of the stupid layers. Why had he worn clothes again? Why was he doing _anything_ other than being nestled in blankets, surrounded by his Alpha?

The fabric tore quickly enough though, and finally – _finally_ \- he had Dimitri pressed up against him, just like they were supposed to be. Their skin was sweaty, sticky, but it didn’t matter. Felix was already soaking the blankets.

“You went through all this trouble,” Dimitri teased as he ground down against Felix. “Your nest looks lovely, by the way.”

Nest? Hah. No. “Then ruin it. Ruin _me_.”

Dimitri flipped him over and forced him down, looming over Felix like a predator about to consume his prey. Maybe Felix would let him. It made perfect sense, really. It was Dimitri’s _right_ to use Felix as he saw fit.

He moaned, low and eager as Dimitri slid in with little to no resistance. His nerves were all achingly alive and over-sensitized, and Dimitri licking at his neck like it was the most delicious thing in the world only made Felix sink deeper and deeper into pure bliss. Goddess. They’d wasted so much time already.

“My Felix,” Dimitri murmured, possessive, _hungry_. “You’ve always been mine.”

Yes. Yes. Of course. “Deeper, beast. Make it good.”

Dimitri was good at taking orders. Felix pushed back, trying to voice his pleasure as he was filled, taken, _used_. He came with a low purr, digging his nails into the blankets as that wonderful knot pushed up against his already aching insides.

Dimitri snuggled him close, murmuring soft praise as they both caught their breaths.

He pulled out and flipped Felix over, changing positions so he could look down at Felix as he entered him again. Felix gripped Dimitri’s hand, wound his legs tight as his own dick bobbed up and down between them.

“You didn’t need to put on such a show for me.” Dimitri kissed his hand, blue eye glittering. “But you wanted them to see. That no one else could have you. You’re _mine_ and mine alone. ”

Dimitri got it. Understood Felix, saw him. Deserved him. “Maybe.”

“You’ll look so pretty, swollen with pups. You’re always so beautiful.” Dimitri adjusted the angle and Felix moaned, moving to dig his nails in and scratch. Goddess. Carrying Dimitri’s _pups_. But of course he would. Dimitri was his and only his. No one else would dare.

“Then put them in me,” Felix challenged and was rewarded with another warm burst of come. He laughed, dizzy, barely holding on, and begged Sothis to stop everything so he could exist only in this small space, only with Dimitri. Just the two of them, connected together, just like this.

The heat didn’t die down in the slightest. Stuffed full of seed, snuggled close, Felix finally let himself unwind.

He could have this.

He could have Dimitri. All of him. And Dimitri’s claim on him would never be in question again.

Three days later, they both emerged from Felix’s quarters, looking a little less like they’d spent the entire time trying to destroy each other. Felix still felt horny – maybe he’d always be this weak-willed when it came to being bedded by his Alpha. Dimitri had tended to him, fed him, doted on him and Felix had allowed it. Mostly. He could make certain exceptions when it was just the two of them.

He left his hair down, unwilling to share the lovely scar that Dimitri had left on his neck. That was their own damn business.

Their former classmates and close friends were waiting for them in the dining hall. Food was spread out – peppered meats, vegetables in some kind of exotic sauce, fresh fruit arranged in careful designs.

Felix raised an eyebrow at a very sheepish Ashe and blushing Dedue.

“It’s about damn _time_ ,” Ingrid announced, and proceeded to spear the roast pheasant.

**EPILOGUE**

“I’m _fine_ ,” Felix groused as he took another long sip of cold water. It was hard enough to move as it was, given the heaviness of his belly and how often the pup inside it _kicked_ . Definitely a Blaiddyd. Fraldarius children had _grace_. But his pup had been still the past two days, a small blessing given Felix’s general level of irritation with diplomacy. Easier to just settle things with the end of a weapon than _talk_ about it for hours on end. At least the Almyrans understood that part.

“No one will fault you for wanting to sit down and take it easy.” Another irritation. His old man tried being _supportive_ in coming along to the meeting in former Goneril territory. With Felix formally taking his title and lands, Rodrigue had declared he wanted to see more of the world.

After his grandchild was born, apparently.

Felix was sick of all of them.

Dimitri stood behind Felix and gently rubbed at the base of his spine. Some of the ache dissipated, but Felix was still annoyingly, irritatingly _warm_. “I do wish you’d at least have allowed Hilda to show you that resting room. You do look a little tired today.”

Felix snorted. “That’s for _Omegas_.”

“Yes. Well.” Dimitri nuzzled at hair, sniffing gently. “Ready to go into a long, tedious meeting?”

Ugh. “Lead on, Your Majesty.”

Felix, despite all evidence to the contrary, _could_ be a decent diplomat when the mood suited him. He just didn’t have the patience for niceties most of the time. Luckily, Almyrans were direct, even if Claude was not. Felix banged the table at appropriate times, kept his mouth shut when Dimitri tried to be conciliatory. He could do this. Even if it was hot. Even if it was _dull_.

Even if there was a certain wetness starting to run down the inside of his legs.

Wait.

“Felix?”

 _Fuck_.

And thus, Mikhail Alexi Blaiddyd, firstborn son of Dimitri Alexandre Blaidydd (Alpha) and Felix Hugo Fraldarius ( _omitted_ ) was born on the eve of peace accords with the great country of Almyra. Mikhail was noted by historians to be a deft swordsman, with the features of every Blaiddyd before him and the famed temperament of a Fraldarius. The second and third-born children were also considered to be equally skilled, although perhaps less fierce than their ( _line scratched out by Seteth_ ) parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. That was way longer and more involved than I thought it would be. But it was fun! And let us all consider the possibility of The Talk with their pups, which mostly involved Dimitri telling them "And then a Dimitri and a Felix love each other very much and found our pups in our garden. Please don't bring this up with your papa."


End file.
